


Deadman Walking

by scrub_fics



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, M/M, No beta we die like mne, add characters as we go, if you don't know what that means it's okay; everything will be explained in the fic, mashup with TWD zombies and The Maze Runner Zombies, rated mature mainly because zombies, relationships might change, there'll be gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:13:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21515836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrub_fics/pseuds/scrub_fics
Summary: It had started out small - a few people falling ill here or there, nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing that warranted any concern, up until it did. News reporters were on every channel, telling the public to stay inside and to not allow anyone in their home. Governments all over the world were trying to keep their people calm, but anyone with eyes could see they were scared. But no one had any idea what they were scared of until it was too late.
Relationships: Barbara Gordon & Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne
Comments: 21
Kudos: 75





	1. One Way, or Another (I'm Gonna Find ya)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know that I have that other kinda-fic going on, but I've been itching to write a Zombie AU as well as some civilian AUs. I had to scratch the itch, y'know?
> 
> And sorry if there were any mistakes - I don't have the energy to look this over haha
> 
> Title: "One Way or Another" by Blondie

They hadn't been prepared when it happened. 

Maybe, in hindsight, it was something they should have had a plan for (after all, they had seen just about everything), but they didn't. Not even Batman knew how to deal with the current crisis, and that was saying a lot.

It had started out small - a few people falling ill here or there, nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing that warranted any concern, up until it did. News reporters were on every channel, telling the public to stay inside and to not allow anyone in their home. Governments all over the world were trying to keep their people calm, but anyone with eyes could see they were scared. But no one had any idea what they were scared of until it was too late.

\--------

_Three nights at the motel under streetlights in the city of palms_

Dick hummed along quietly to the music coming from the club beneath him, taking a moment to catch his breath before he went back to his apartment. It had been a rather successful night in his book - he stopped a weapon shipment that was heading right toward Blockbuster, stopped a few robberies and drug deals, and saved a young kid from getting kidnapped. The grateful hug he had gotten for that honestly made his night, and he wanted to get some sleep before something found a way to ruin said night.

_Call me what you want when you want if you want, and you can call me names if you call me up_

Dick stood up, stretching his arms above his head and letting out a happy sigh at the stretch he felt. Maybe he would take a bath - but no, it was too likely he would fall asleep in the tub. That happened often enough that Damian felt the need to remind him that one could drown in a tub, and that it would be a shameful way to go. 

He couldn't help but laugh quietly. Jason was another deterrent for taking a bath - he had gotten an earful when the younger found him passed out his tub, water dyed pink from some blood from wounds that Dick hadn't even noticed at the time. They weren't bad, were really only scratches, but it freaked Jason out enough that Dick would only take a bath if he knew he would be able to stay awake. And while tonight was not one of those times, maybe he would give Jason a call, see if he wanted to get a late night snack. 

_Three nights at the motel under streetlights in the city of palms_

Dick mentally nodded. That sounded like a great plan - Jason, some take out, and a shitty movie on his shitty couch. The pair had been together for a little over six months, and Dick was _finally_ starting to break down some of Jason's walls. Two years ago Jason wouldn't have even had a conversation longer than a minute with him, which-

"Dick."

Dick would never admit it, but Oracle always scared the crap out of him when she randomly started talking. He liked to think he was getting better at hiding it though, especially since she no longer teased him about how he jumped whenever she started talking (which was not true, by the way). Dick opened his mouth, a quick response at the ready, but she kept going, not giving him the chance to say anything.

"We've been having trouble contacting you, but you need to get to the Watchtower ASAP," she said. Dick frowned, brow furrowing at both her message and her tone of voice. She sounded calm, but he knew her well enough to hear the fear in her voice.

"What's going on, O?" Dick asked, knowing already that whatever was happening was serious and required Nightwing at his best - Dick Grayson needed to take the backseat. 

"Doesn't matter," she said. "You just need to get out of there."

"Babs-"

 _"Dick."_ Dick's eyes widened slightly. That - that was _Jason's_ voice. "You need to listen to her, okay? Just. Everyone's heading up here - the Teen Titans, the Titans, the League - _everyone_. Damian and Tim are here too, we're all here, so you- ta- rry-"

"Jason?" Dick questioned, nervousness creeping into his voice. 

"-ck, y- Watch-"

"Jason, I can't hear you, what's-" This time Dick cut himself off with a shout of surprise, nearly falling off the roof when a large explosion went off in the upper area of Bludhaven. Dick slowly righted himself, eyes trained on the fire. That was when he noticed that the music coming from the club had been turned off, and that the lights from nearby houses and streetlights had gone off as well. In the wake of the firey explosion was a moment of quiet - a mere moment that he was allowed to process what just happened - when another explosion went off, closer this time. People's screams started flooding the streets and for the first time in a long time, Dick was paralyzed with uncertainty. Jason and Barbra wouldn't have told him to go to the Watchtower if it wasn't an emergency, that much was certain. And considering how two bombs had just devastated half his city, he figured he had maybe a minute or two before those planes came back and finished the job. He knew there was no way he could perform any kind of evacuation - there were too many people, there wasn't enough time - but, he could save as many people as he could.

With that thought in mind he jumped off the roof of the club and began swinging toward the bomb sites. He fixed a rebreather onto his face as he went, knowing that the last thing he needed was to pass out from too much gas inhalation. 

He stopped on a building that was still more or less standing, wanting to take a moment to asses the situation he was about to put himself in. Only, he was having a hard time processing what he was seeing.

The streets were absolute chaos. People were screaming and crying, bodies and rubble filled the streets, and nearly everything seemed to be on fire. That, he could process. What he couldn't comprehend? The stiff-limbed, hobbling people that attacked any living thing they could get their hands on. The noises that they made, the fact that they had wounds that should have killed them already. And then Dick fell to his knees, barely paying any mind to yet another explosion that had gone off behind him. Because he had just seen someone who had been dead - stabbed through the heart with a metal pole - get up and start walking. 

In all honesty, he felt like he was mere moments away from throwing up. Guts and blood and severed body parts littered the streets, all being fed on by...by what? Because Dick _knew_ that those people shouldn't be alive. In a way they reminded him of the Court's Talons, but no. They moved much too slow and were too clumsy to be one of the Court's prized fighters. Not to mention the fact that he was pretty sure Talons weren't cannibalistic. 

That being said, there was only one thought that popped into his mind. But no, zombies would be ridiculous - they weren't real. The dead don't come back to life.

 _Oh,_ his mind whispered to him. _But they do - you know all too well that they do._

The sound of a door slamming open caused Dick to spin around, escrima sticks at the ready, only to almost drop them out of shock and horror.

"Nightwing!" A man cried out desperately, one arm reaching out to him as a group of people ( _you know they aren't people-_ ) tore into him, their teeth soaked with blood and mouths filled with human flesh. Dick stumbled, eyes wide and unable to look away as the man was brutally murdered right in front of him. He knew in that moment that he could no longer deny what was happening. Because somehow, the farfetched idea of a zombie apocalypse had just become his reality.

It wasn't a moment after Dick admitted to himself that yeah, there were actual zombies right in front of him that one of them stood up and began hobbling toward him. Considering how Dick wasn't aiming to become its next snack, he quickly made his exit, silently apologizing to the man he couldn't save. He knew that if these...people (he was still unwilling to call them zombies, despite having seen proof that that was exactly what they were) were anything like the ones from the many TV shows and movies, a bite from one of them was basically a death sentence. He had never gotten into the trend as he hadn't found the appeal, but now he wished he had, even if it was to give himself the slightest bit of comfort. 

Dick took a shaky breath, knowing that his first priority was to get to the cave. The nearest zeta tube that would bring him to the Watchtower had undoubtedly gotten destroyed, and even if it hadn't, chances were it was surrounded by things that would like to eat him - and not in the fun way either.

"I just wanted to take a bath," he muttered to himself as he moved across the remaining rooftops. "But no. Instead, I get the apocalypse - the _zombie_ apocalypse at that. God, what even is my life?" 

The bombs that had been dropped made more sense now. He didn't like it, but chances were his city had already been infected and the government was trying to nip the problem at the bud. But that had definitely made the situation worse, as apparently you couldn't kill these people. No, not people - they were dead and ate the people who weren't dead. Dick bit his lip hard enough to bleed out of frustration. He needed to remember what he had just seen. If they were eating another person, then they weren't alive. They were dead, and he was going to have to find a way to keep them that way because he was out of rooftops. 

Dick allowed himself to throw a silent fit, figuring that he should be allowed that at the very least. Gripping his hair, he mumbled about how he should have left when Jason and Barbara told him to. Then a cold wave washed over him, because they probably thought he was dead, didn't they? They might not have known exactly what was happening, but they knew something was, and he was sure they had some way of seeing what was happening on Earth from the Watchtower. Then again, if his comm had stopped working, then maybe they were having problems with electronics. That, or his comm malfunctioning could be attributed to the planes and the bombs or-

Dick shook his head. That didn't matter. What mattered was getting to the cave and getting as much information as he could on the way. Taking a deep breath, he tried to remember something - _anything_ his friends had told him about zombies. They were, obviously, dead somehow. He knew that the reason varied from all the different shows and games, but the general idea was that the people they once were were not coming back, and you either put them down for good or you were their next meal. He also remembered something about how they found you - again, it varied, but he figured that they couldn't have been far off when they guessed that one of the senses allowed them to find you. It was something he would have to test, but he hoped it would be with a much smaller group. Though he supposed that it wouldn't be likely. Bludhaven and Gotham were big cities filled with lots of people, so he might just have to hide and try his luck.

Then he remembered something about Cyborg saying to always go for the head. Dick crouched down, a game plan forming in his head. He'd definitely be putting himself at risk, but that was a given. He did that every night since he was 9 years old - the only difference was now he had to focus on his physical aspects rather than mental, and hope that he had enough juice to get him through this nightmare.

"God, Jason's gonna kill me," he said with a huff of laughter. What he was doing in general was reckless, he knew, but he was also aware of the fact that he wouldn't be able to help himself from trying to save people if he was able to. Dick bit his lip again, wincing slightly when he accidentally reopened the wound there. He then stood up, taking a few grounding breaths before opening his eyes once more. 

Get to the cave. Save as many people as you can. Don't let them bite you. Headshots. It was like his own little prayer, especially once he took a glance into the streets. They were filled with what looked like people, but he knew they weren't. They weren't alive. There was the living, and then there was Them. He needed to make sure he kept that line straight, or else his night would get a whole lot worse.

"Okay Grayson," he muttered to himself, shaking his limbs in a poor attempt to relieve them of their tension. "You got this. You're only putting yourself in imminent danger and are very likely to die, but that's okay, it was likely you'd go any night you went out."

His pep talk really wasn't going too well.

Dick took a deep breath before standing still, forcing himself to calm down. He had a mission to finish, and he was not about to let nerves stop him. He activated his emergency tracker, figuring that it would be safer to have it on on the off chance that the satellites weren't being screwed up like the comms were.

Dick rubbed his hands together, his signature Nightwing smile forming on his face. He was scared, nervous, and wanted nothing more then to curl up with his family and pretend this was nothing more than a horrible dream, but he had to work for that. He had to work for everything he wanted in life, and that obviously wasn't about to stop now.

"Business as usual."

\--------

"I need to get down there!" Damian yelled, fighting against the grip of both Batman and Green Lantern. "He- he doesn't know, he'll try to help someone and-"

"Damian," Bruce tried, gritting his teeth. "You need to-"

"Shut up." The cold tone caused everyone to pause. Jason stood in front of a large window, staring down at Earth as though he would be able to find his idiotic partner. His hands gripped his biceps tighter, using every ounce of self control to keep himself from doing exactly what Damian was trying to do. He took a deep breath before turning around, glancing at everyone in the room from under his helmet. 

"We need to find him first," Jason started. "If we go down there without knowing where he is, chances are we'll become infected too and then we'll really be screwed." It pained him to admit it, but he knew he was right. "We found that out the hard way." A moment of silence rang out amongst the small crowd as they remembered how most of their members had gone back to try and save the civilians they could, only to be swarmed by those who were infected. At the moment, more people were infected than not. It was impossible to say just how many they had lost in overall population, but he knew that the number would be astronomically high. The disease started spreading from what they were calling Hotspots at an alarming rate and apparently had the ability to take over anyone. Even... Jason swallowed. Even aliens like Starfire, J'onn, and Shayera, just to name a few.

It was also capable of taking out metas and magic users - they had lost many people over the past few hours with barely any information to show. And now his partner was down there, by himself, with no way for Jason to contact him. It was maddening, but apparently he was the only one with a braincell left, and that was saying something. But he understood. Yes, he had a short fuse - he was fully aware of it. But he also knew that he was amazing at compartmentalizing, and that he needed to push his grief over losing his friends - his _family_ \- to the side for the moment. He would be able to mourn them later, but right now he needed to turn his pain into rage and determination, something else that he was good at. 

"That's why we can't rush in," he said with a sigh. His hands moved to his hips, and he stared at the ground for a moment. "Babs," he called out, unable to hide just how furious and stressed he was. "There isn't any way you can get in contact with him?"

Barbara let out a sigh from her position in front of the computer. "Well, yes and no. No because the gridlines are failing all over the world, basically cutting off communication by destroying telephone poles, power plants, and even disrupting certain frequency waves." She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "The last one is probably because there was a big explosion at a number of military bases, all of which have technology that could possibly be interfering. However, I made a whole different channel that is specific to Gotham. That channel runs through me. It's kind of like how some computers aren't connected to the internet and are therefore something I can't hack into without having direct access to it."

"So you're saying that if Dick can get to Gotham," Tim started quietly, speaking for the first time since he found out he lost most of his team.

"I can probably get ahold of him, yeah. All I can do now is-" Barbara cut herself off, staring intently at the screen.

"Babs?" Jason called, walking over to her. At his sharp intake of breath, the remaining group - Clark, Diana, Oliver, Barry, Bruce, Alfred, Hal, Conner, Tim and Damian - joined them. 

Many of their people were dead, and many of them were MIA. Jason had just lost his closest friends, and the world seemed to be collapsing in on itself. But even so, he smiled. Because there was a bright, beautiful blue dot on the map in front of them, and it was heading to Gotham.

\--------

Next time anyone made fun of him for using escrima sticks, Dick was going to laugh right in their face, because his 'stupid sticks' were the main reason he was alive. If he had been using guns, he would have been out of ammo by now. Batarangs? He wasn't using them too often, but he was still running low. Point was, having a weapon that wasn't limited to a number of rounds was saving his sorry ass from his current position. Or, the position he had been in about .5 seconds ago. One of the rooftops had been more unstable then he thought, and couldn't hold his weight when he landed. The good news was that he hadn't hurt himself when he fell through the roof. The bad news was that apparently a lot of people died in that building.

Still, going for the head seemed to work, and he managed to jump out a window before he got swarmed. When he first had to defend himself against Them, he had almost thrown up. The feeling of having a skull break under his weapon was not something he ever wanted to repeat, but he had no choice. It was either that or die, and he had a lot of people who would be pissed if he kicked the bucket.

Hopefully he wouldn't get too big of a lecture though - after all, he was collecting some important data. 

They were slow, something that Dick was so, _so_ grateful for. He didn't know if his heart could take it if he had to outrun Them while they- okay, no. Dick shook his head. Imagining that would make him more paranoid and scared then he already was, and he really couldn't afford that. Taking a deep breath, he resumed his mental notes in an attempt to calm himself down.

So, They were slow. They also only seemed to go after something that was living, and it didn't seem to matter what it was - human, dog, cat...as long as it had a heartbeat. They were on it. That was what originally made Dick think that maybe they could sense heat like some fish and other animals could, but he was starting to think that it was sight and sound. 

Dick sighed, stopping for a moment. When he jumped out of the building, the only option left for him was to walk. Now it seemed like he would have to climb. The bridge between Gotham and Bludhaven was filled with crashed cars and- fuck, he was just going to call them zombies. Letting out a groan, he placed his escrima sticks onto his back before walking over to the right side of the bridge. It seemed to be in better shape then the left side, so it was what he was going to go with. 

It was a good thing that he started climbing when he did, because a few zombies from the bridge had made their way over to him and were trying to grab his leg, or any body part that they could reach. He tried his best to ignore how parts of their bodies were literally ripped open, guts falling out of their bodies. How they were covered in blood, maybe half of it their own. It was brutal, and Dick couldn't start moving fast enough. 

The climb itself wasn't hard - he had done it many times before, and had never been afraid of falling. Now though? Now he was. Not because he would die from the fall - he probably would - but there was an off chance he might not, and then he would end up like the man from the rooftop. Regardless, he'd end up like him, but he would like to skip out on the being eaten alive part.

Dick let out a helpless laugh. He'd been told his sense of humor had been bad before, but something told him it was only going to get worse in his attempts to deal with his new trauma. Like he didn't have enough of it already.

Dick finished the rest of the climb grumbling to himself, trying to focus on anything other than the fact that what was probably most of humanity had been wiped out from whatever kind of infection this was. Could it even be called an infection? No, maybe not. The dead were coming back to life, after all. Still, all he currently knew was that he was surrounded by dead cannibals that walked slow and could still see and hear him. That's when an idea struck him.

These things didn't seem smart - he'd seen one or two walk off of roofs in an attempt to follow him. So maybe he could distract them by making noise from somewhere else. Dick squatted in his new perch, doing his best to ignore the groans coming from beneath him. 

It was hard to see anything other than zombies and utter destruction, but Dick was able to find a car that seemed to be in tact. For his sake, he hoped that its alarm still worked, and that he wasn't about to make a mistake.

Taking a deep breath, Dick fished a batarang from his belt and took aim. He needed to get someplace safe fast, especially now that the sun was rising, making him easier to spot. With a quick prayer to anyone that might be listening, Dick threw his batarang at the car and broke a window. The alarm went off just as he hoped it would, and to his relief - and utter surprise, if he was being honest - his plan had worked. The zombies were moving away from him in favor of the new sound.

Dick did an internal victory dance before making a break for it. Gotham hadn't been blown to hell like Bludhaven had been, but he figured that was because the government realized what a bad idea that had been. He thanked his lucky stars for that, because now he was home free. With a grin he took off across the rooftops, but only made it over a few before a voice was yelling in his ear.

"Dick!"

"Shit!" Dick cursed, the shock of finally hearing a voice that wasn't from a zombie or a poor victim of said zombies causing him to jump a few feet in the air. "Holy crap, O," he groaned, crouching down as he tried to calm his heart. "You scared the shit out of me!"

He heard various levels of cheers and laughter from the other side of the comm. It was faint, but it was there. A smile broke out across Dick's lips, because that's when he knew more people than just Jason and Barbara made it.

"Dick," a voice croaked, and his grin faded into something softer. 

"I'm here, Jay. Though, not sure if you guys are aware, but here is a very bad place to be at the moment." Dick stood up and peeked over the side of the roof, letting out another groan before he sat down. He had to pull the comm out of his ear then, because too many people were too loud about their concern. 

"I'm fine guys, I'm fine," Dick said, tiredly rubbing at his forehead. "There's just. I'm not sure if you guys have seen just how many people are...gone, but from what I could tell, it was most of Bludhaven. I just got to Gotham, but it's not looking too good here either." There was a beat of silence before he continued. "I'm honestly not sure how we're gonna fix this one guys. Who's up there with you, though? Cause if I find some survivors, I might need a quick extraction."

Dick waited for Barbara, Jason, or even Bruce to start rattling off names, but he got nothing but silence in response to his question. And that worried him.

"Guys?" He tried again, attempting to keep his voice level.

"It's me," Jason started after another beat of silence. "Babs, Bruce, Alfred, Tim, Damian, Hal, Barry, Clark, Diana, Conner, and Oliver. The rest are either dead or MIA."

Dick was glad he was sitting down, because if he wasn't, then he would have fallen down. That couldn't be right. There had to be more of them left, they-

"Wally?" He croaked. "Artemis? Kori? Roy? Garfield? Victor-"

"We don't know," Bruce interrupted. Dick could tell that the man was struggling to hold it together. As of right now, they had a little more than double what the Justice League's original number was. The loss was more than just a little heavy, but Dick didn't think he could feel anything other than shock at the moment. Shock, and anger.

"I'm going to find them," he said, voice steely with determination. "I'm going to find them, and I'm going to save as many people as I can in the process."

There were a lot of protests as he expected, but he couldn't let this stand.

"They respond to hearing and sight," he continued, forcing the group at the Watchtower to quiet down. "They'll only go down if you," he released a shaky breath. "If you aim for the head. No other body part will have an effect. Trust me, I had time to try them all. But they - for all intents and purposes - are dead." Dick exhaled sharply. "They all died one way or another, and it doesn't seem to matter how they die. If they die, they come back. That's all I have right now."

Silence stretched across the line for longer then Dick normally would have liked, but was grateful for now. It gave him a chance to gather his thoughts and put himself back into the mindset he needed to be in. He never let exhaustion get the best of him before, and he wasn't about to let it now. 

"I'm coming with you," Jason said. His voice was strong and sturdy, and it made Dick smile. 

"Little Wing-"

"No. If you're staying down there, then I'm coming with you."

"Me too," he heard Damian state. There were a few more agreements as well, but a few disagreements. Not everyone thought that they should return to Earth without a solid plan - they couldn't afford to lose more people. And Dick knew they were right to worry about that, but he didn't _care_. His friends were in trouble, probably stranded by themselves, and he was not going to let them down.

"I'm heading to the cave," Dick said, standing up. "I'll wait there for one hour. Then I'm finding my friends."

Dick turned his comm off with a finality that he knew would get the rest of them talking. He had no doubt that Jason and Damian would manage to make their way to him, but it was a toss up on the others. Tim had quite possibly lost his whole team except for Conner, and he might need time to get past that. Dick couldn't fault him for it, not really. He was pretty sure Diana would join him as well - she never left her comrades unavenged. Barbara physically couldn't, and he hoped that Alfred would stay at the Watchtower for his own sanity. But come what may, Dick was going to find his friends. And then after that, he was going to save this world - one way or another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo
> 
> yay or nay?
> 
> Also, if you think that I'm going to name every chapter after a song - you'd be absolutely right. Because what's a zombie apocalypse without some good tunes?


	2. Should I Stay or Should I Go?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I was also thinking," Dick continued after pausing for a beat. "That maybe Tim and Babs could work on a cure as well. The people down here - the uh, zombies," it was still awkward to say that out loud, "are dead. There is no question about that. And while Hollywood is not the best reference for anything, I do recall that being bitten or scratched by them results in transferring the infection, and will eventually kill the person who got infected. If that's true, then it's possible to save the people who haven't died yet from, well, dying. It could also save us as well."
> 
> Dick's last statement resulted in a few confused expressions.
> 
> "What do you mean by that, Dick?" Barbra asked, brow furrowed.
> 
> Dick sighed, leaning back in the chair. He rubbed at his face, not answering for a beat or two before leaning forward and letting his hands fall to his lap.
> 
> "I think that everyone is infected."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is a bit shorter, but I wanted to get something out now haha
> 
> Title: "Should I Stay or Should I Go" by The Clash

When Dick was younger, he used to hate that Wayne Manor was on the outskirts of Gotham. He didn't have anyone to play with nearby, and Bruce or Alfred had to drive him everywhere if he wanted to do something other than hang around the manor. Now though, Dick couldn't be happier. Being so far from the city meant that there were next to no zombies by the estate, and the big iron gates kept the few that were there from breaching his home. 

With a sigh he decided to deal with the few undead that were there, figuring that if they made too much noise they could attract others. The gates to Wayne Manor were strong, but Dick wasn't willing to test what they could withstand. 

With a quiet grumble Dick climbed over the fence, allowing himself to move slower then he had all night. He was exhausted and could really use a nap (his statement about waiting only an hour would probably be retracted, as he knew he would need to be wide awake when he left the safety of the manor once more), and would more then likely pass out as soon as he got the chance. 

"It's times like these where I'm glad that Bruce built this place like a fortress," he mumbled, taking both his mask and rebreather off once he was inside. He had left the mask on purely because it gave him some comfort, but the rebreather he had left on because he wasn't sure how the disease spread. From what he could tell, it seemed like dying is what spread it - which wasn't a nice thought at all, so he guess he left the rebreather on for some semblance of control - sue him.

But now that he was thinking about it, could animals get infected as well? Or was it only humans that got screwed over? And in extension to that, could aliens or metahumans get the disease? He hoped not, because that could lead to some very big issues if they still had their powers after they died.

Dick paused on his trek down to the cave, thinking about how Babs and Jason barely knew anything about who was still alive. It made his heart ache because those were his teammates and coworkers that were missing, his _friends_. Not to mention all the people he worked with at BPD and-

Dick slammed the side of his fist against the wall, taking deep breathes as he tried not to break down. There was no way anyone from his day job had made it. The city had been bombed and taken over by zombies of all things - he had barely made it out, and he wasn't too eager to try his luck again. But that way of thinking made him feel sick. He was already planning on going out to search for his masked friends, so why should the others be any different? Maybe it was because he knew that those with double lives had a much higher chance of surviving. Everyone had plans on what to do if shit hit the fan and they needed to lay low for a while. Part of it was also the fact that he didn't think he could handle seeing Bludhaven or any of her residents any time soon. Dick knew he'd break down on the spot, and he didn't have time for that. 

Taking in a deep breath he forced himself to start walking again, trying to come up with a game plan because that was the only way he could currently hold on to his sanity. First, he needed to figure out where to search first. Chances were people who lived in rural areas would be mostly untouched, while the people in cities like Gotham and Bludhaven would be...well, in dire need of help. That being said, he didn't think it was a good idea to leave the people in the rural areas where they were, because they could be in danger at any given second.

Dick nodded to himself as he sat down in the chair in front of the monitors - in Batman's chair, as he had always thought of it as. He quickly disregarded the thought, because now was not the time to have an identity crisis.

Okay, so rescuing the people in the rural areas. Hal would be the best option for that, but it would be way too difficult for him to search by himself. In all honesty, it was a bad idea for anyone who needed to use the ground to be on Earth at the moment. Dick considered himself and the rest of the 'batclan' to be in a different category, as they were used to the rooftops just as much as the ground. But Barry? Hell, even Oliver he was unsure about. But both could be incredible assets, so long as they stayed out of harms way. That would be hard to do, unless they had a safe rendezvous point that they (or Barry, at the very least) could wait at until they were called in. But that would mean having comms that worked, and Dick's didn't work until he got into Gotham. They would need to make some devices that worked within in a certain distance without the usual fancy tricks they had (like all the things that made the line secure), kind of like walkie talkies. Anybody could tune in, but at this point, what was the point in worrying about that? If anything, it could only be beneficial and help them find survivors. 

Dick nodded to himself. Yes, first thing they had to do was make new communication devices - Babs and Tim could make those. Then Hal could scout the rural areas with Barry and maybe Clark nearby, waiting for him to give the all clear. They would rescue who they could, and they would be fast. He would have liked to have Barry and Clark on standby when they went into the cities, but having Barry run around the zombies like he would have to made him nervous. One misstep and he could be their next meal, and Dick wasn't about to lose anyone else. No, Barry, Clark and Hal would be their primary rescue team. They would only go in once the all clear was given. Bruce would probably go with them, now that he was thinking about it. Bruce could be the primary scout with Hal as his immediate backup, and Barry and Clark would go in and get everyone to the rendezvous point where Hal could then bring all of them up to the Watchtower before the cycle repeated. 

It made Dick all kinds of anxious to even think about sending his family into the mess that was the world, but he knew that they would eventually get involved, one way or another. Having a plan from the get-go might make things run smoother in the long run, and at this point he figured that was the most he could ask for. So if he set Babs, Tim, Clark, Barry, Bruce, and Hal to the side, that left him, Jason, Damian, Oliver, Diana, Conner, and Alfred. Alfred would definitely become their primary medical care, and Damian could be as well. The only problem was that there was no way he could get the kid to stay at the Watchtower, and Damian was too valuable on the field to leave him behind anyways. What he _could_ do though was act as the medical help on the field. Dick imagined that they would eventually come across a problem that would require medical assistance, and getting the person to the Watchtower just might not be possible.

So with that in mind, Dick got up and headed over to the medbay to start packing up everything they had in a pack for Damian. As much as he might hate it, Dick knew he could get the little gremlin to agree. The bigger problem would probably be insisting that the younger stay with someone else at all times, but it might not be too big of a deal if Damian stayed by Dick himself. 

As he was packing Damian's pack, Dick decided to make basic first aid kits for everyone. He already had one on him and he assumed Jason and the others did as well, but it wouldn't hurt to be prepared in case they didn't. 

As he was sorting everything out, Dick developed the rest of his plan. He was definitely staying by Jason - that was a no-brainer. Jason was a tank and had enough armor to keep clawing hands and biting teeth at bay. He had guns and was incredible in hand-to-hand combat, and keeping him off the field would be a dumb move. But now that he was thinking about armor, it would be a good idea for him and a few others to bulk up a bit. He wouldn't have to dodge bullets like before, so giving up some movement and speed in exchange for more protection was a good idea. 

Dick had just finished with the med kits when he got to the last three people: Diana, Oliver, and Conner. There was a high chance that Tim would want Conner to stay nearby (and most likely vise versa), so for now Superboy would be put into their reserves. Oliver could act as their backup in the cities, and pick off the zombies that they might not be able to handle. Dick figured that having Diana stay with Oliver would be the best play. Yes, she was Wonder Woman, and yes, she was an absolute beast when fighting. But she wore next to no armor, something that worried Dick to no end at the moment. Her skin was tougher than any human's, yes, but could it withstand the brutality he had seen? He wasn't sure, and he didn't want to find out. Not to mention she would essentially be their only hope if him, Jason, and Damian got cornered. Oliver could definitely help them, but Diana could get to them almost immediately and fly them to safety. 

Dick let out a heavy sigh before walking back and sitting in Batman's chair. He waited a few moments, biting his nails before reaching forward to establish video connection with the Watchtower. Almost immediately the call was answered, and he was greeted by a dozen worried faces. 

"Hey guys," he said, a tired smile on his lips.

" _Dick_ ," Jason breathed out, sitting directly in front of the screen. "Are you okay? You said an hour, but it hasn't-"

"I'm okay Little Wing," Dick assured. "I just wanted to call to talk about strategy. Something tells me there was probably a mini civil war going on up there." From the way a few of them averted their gaze and Alfred's exhausted expression, he knew he was right. Dick didn't waste any time before he explained what he had come up with, but not before making sure that they all knew that they didn't have to take up the role they were given. The Justice League never sent unwilling participants into dangerous missions, and Dick wasn't about to start doing so now. He also made sure to explain why he chose the roles he did for each of his remaining family. He caught some of the displeased looks, but he knew that they would understand.

"I was also thinking," Dick continued after pausing for a beat. "That maybe Tim and Babs could work on a cure as well. The people down here - the uh, zombies," it was still awkward to say that out loud, "are dead. There is no question about that. And while Hollywood is not the best reference for anything, I do recall that being bitten or scratched by them results in transferring the infection, and will eventually kill the person who got infected. If that's true, then it's possible to save the people who haven't died yet from, well, dying. It could also save us as well."

Dick's last statement resulted in a few confused expressions.

"What do you mean by that, Dick?" Barbara asked, brow furrowed.

Dick sighed, leaning back in the chair. He rubbed at his face, not answering for a beat or two before leaning forward and letting his hands fall to his lap.

"I think that everyone is infected," he said, voice showing how reluctant he was to say that. "When the bombs first hit Bludhaven, there were zombies, yeah. But a bunch of people died from the bombs. One man," Dick shuddered as he thought back to what he had seen. "He had been killed by a metal rod through his heart. There were no zombie on him at the time, and to the best of my knowledge, there had been none before he was killed. But I saw him open his eyes and _move_ , like he hadn't just been impaled." Dick scratched the back of his head.

"To be honest, I'm guessing that's why they didn't bomb Gotham. Could have been other reasons too, but for all our sakes I hope that the governments realized that bombing entire cities was the worst possible thing they could have done if they were trying to save people."

Dick raised his head when he heard Barbara mutter something under her breath, eyes wide in a way that let him know she figured something out.

"Those must be the Hotspots," she said, this time loud enough for everyone to hear. "There were some places that we think were overrun by the uh, zombies," seemed like Dick wasn't the only one having trouble calling them that. "But we didn't know why. We thought that maybe those were just the areas that had the worst breakout, but then Bludhaven got bombed and became a Hotspot too. So the governments from around the world must have bombed certain areas, thus creating these Hotspots." She looked up to catch Dick's gaze, pain and frustration evident in her eyes. "That's probably why they stopped the bombs though. They realized they were doing more harm then good and full on retreated." Jason piped up at Dick's visible confusion.

"The governments worldwide have basically gone dark," he explained. "They were there at first trying to keep everyone calm, but once this shit got to the news stations everyone all but lost their shit. The bombs were probably the governments' last course of action and, seeing as how that failed miserably, our best guess is that they've all gone into hiding. That, or they literally can't do anything. Connection is all but nonexistent at this point, and the only reason we can talk to you is because you're in Gotham and Babs set up her own system for us. Everything else," Jason shrugged. "We can't reach anything."

So in summary, it was worse then Dick had realized. Fantastic.

Dick's sour mood must have been all too visible on his face, because the next thing he knew Jason was sighing and starting to stand up.

"Look," he said, addressing the remaining heroes. "I know we still have quite a bit to talk about, but I agree with Dickie's plan. And even if you guys don't, I was going to him anyway. So I'm gonna zeta tube down, we'll both take a well deserved nap, and revisit this when we wake up." 

Dick couldn't help but smile at Jason's words. He really didn't want his family to be put in the situations he had been in, but it was the world's best chance if they all worked together. 

"I'll be going as well," Damian stated, stepping closer to the screen. "If I'm to be giving medical assistance on the field, I should start by making sure you aren't more injured then you've led us to believe, Grayson." 

Dick chuckled, unable to hold it back when faced with Damian's raised eyebrow. He looked so much like his father, it blew him away sometimes.

"Of course, Damian," he said with a smile. Dick glanced at Tim, worry flooding his veins when he saw just how upset the younger was. However, his brave little bird took a deep breath and stood up straight, making direct eye contact with Dick.

"I'll stay up here and work on the comms and the cure on one condition," he said. Dick raised an eyebrow at that, but made a 'go on' motion with his hand.

"The rest of my team," he started, taking another deep breath to calm down and prevent his voice from cracking. "Can you..."

"I will, baby bird," Dick stated, knowing what his little brother wanted to ask. "Promise."

Tim hesitated before nodding his head, the thank you that he was unable to say so visibly present in his eyes. Dick found himself smiling in return, knowing that he would do his best to figure out what happened to Tim's team. But in the meantime...

"Dick, me and the brat are heading down now," Jason said, a small smile on his lips.

"Awesome," the elder replied with a grin of his own. He always missed his family, but knowing what the word had become made him miss them that much more. When he finally got to see them all again, he was going to give them the biggest hug they had ever gotten. For now though, he had plans on finally getting some sleep and cuddling with two of his favorite people in the whole world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, I might really make a full on soundtrack for this fic lmao


	3. Tomorrow We Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're in shock," Jason whispered, running a hand through Dick's newly washed hair. "Just close your eyes, okay? Close your eyes, and focus on your breathing." Dick wanted to make a snarky comment about how _he_ should be taking care of _them_ because he was the oldest, and that's what the oldest does. But he didn't, because his eyes were closing and suddenly everything felt so heavy and the only thing he could focus on was the warm hand running through his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Tomorrow we Fight by Tommee Profitt
> 
> I had this half-done and sitting in my drafts for like
> 
> A really really really long time, and I rewrote it all on a whim and yeah
> 
> oopsies
> 
> I'm also not too happy with the song choice for this chapter, but for some reason it was so hard?? To find one that worked???? Whatever though, I'm quite content with the ideas for next chapter

To be completely honest, Dick wasn't quite sure just what it was he was doing. 

Sure, he was more than capable to pretend that he did, and was definitely able to seemingly accomplish whatever it was people thought he had been aiming for, but the truth was that he was constantly falling.

He fell for people in every sense of the word - be it to try and catch them before they hit the ground, to enjoy the feeling of the wind rushing past his face with someone else, or even in the romantic sense. He fell in other ways, too.

He fell after he jumped for people,

(Jason always told him that he had a habit of asking "how high?" whenever Bruce asked him to jump. It wasn't something he would deny or stop, but the comment did cause him to think quite a bit about their relationship for approximately a week before he shrugged and moved on, knowing that he couldn't help it and that there was no point in trying to change that part of himself)

he fell when the pressure became too much,

(Because he could handle a lot, but everyone had their breaking point, didn't they?)

and he fell because he trusted that someone would be there to catch him

(That trust has been, in the past, misplaced, but overall Dick is quite happy with the amount of times he's had his very own safety net).

That being said, Dick couldn't help but wonder if this time he had jumped too high, and if this fall would be his last. It wasn't an uncommon thought - he did swing around Gotham and Bludhaven for the vast majority of his life, after all; so the knowledge that he was one misstep away from death was more a close friend at this point rather than anything else.

The only problem was what waited for him at the end of the fall.

It wouldn't be reuniting with his parents like he had always hoped. It certainly wouldn't be happy, or anything good. Not, at least, the first time he died. Because the fate that waited him would be full of blood and pain and suffering, all things that he hoped he wouldn't be mentally present for. But would he ever reach what he hoped to be his paradise if no one took him down a second time? He wasn't sure.

He also wasn't sure how he felt about his family killing him, even if he was technically already dead. Damian, he figured, would do it out of a sense of responsibility. They all knew that he would never want to exist in that state, and he knew just how well Damian could compartmentalize (he was almost as good as Bruce, and quite frankly that scared him. No child should have those abilities).

The next most likely candidate was Jason, for obvious reasons. But perhaps they weren't so obvious. He didn't think Jason would want him walking around like a mindless mutt with rabies, only thinking about his next meal, but he also wasn't sure if Jason would be able to kill him. He figured, yes, he would be able to, but Dick wasn't sure if he himself could if their positions were reversed.

Then again, Dick has been told he was softer than Jason. 

(That was something the two often laughed about, sometimes in the company of Tim and Damian and Babs, because they all knew about his temper and how even Jason occasionally cowered from it.)

That being said, Dick really wished he could turn his brain off for just a moment. But it was so, so so hard, even when taking his current position into account.

He had Damian pulled close to his chest, head tucked under Dick's chin and Dick held him as though that alone could protect him from the cruel reality of their new world.

(He knew it wouldn't, but it couldn't hurt to try, right?)

Jason was curled up behind him, a strong arm curled around both him and Damian. That tidbit confused him - usually Damian and Jason couldn't stand to be near each other, but now they were so close to each other and basically cuddling. It was strange, but Dick supposed that desperate times called for desperate measures. After all, who knew if they would be able to do this again.

Which, now that he thought about it, was an unnecessarily morbid thought. Any day could be their last - now their end just might be a bit...messier. Probably more painful as well, but it couldn't possibly beat the time he'd gotten his ass handed to him by condiment king. Now _that_ had been painful - Tim hadn't let it go for weeks!

He might've laughed had he not felt so tired.

Which, he thought, was completely reasonable. After Jason and Damian had zeta'd down to him, Damian had more or less told the Justice League (or what was left of it anyway) that they were going to sleep and no interruptions would be tolerated unless it was an absolute emergency. And then he hung up on them, something that made Dick's jaw drop and Jason bend over in laughter. 

Now that he was thinking about it, it was pretty funny. Recalling the conflicted look on Wonder Woman's face (part amused, part disgruntled), a quiet snicker managed to make its way past his lips. The noise earned him a jab to the side, causing Dick to whine in protest.

"Go the fuck to sleep," Jason mumbled. Dick raised an imaginary eyebrow to that, partly because Jason wouldn't see if he did or didn't actually do it, and partly because he was to lazy for any unnecessary movement.

"You first, _Todd_ ," Damian replied, voice muffled slightly from Dick's chest. 

It was a strange feeling, having them both with him. The only thing that could make it better would be having Tim and the rest of his family present, but, well. Circumstances.

"We could all go to sleep," Dick suggested helpfully, voice more cheery than he thought was possible. He got a grunt and a groan in response, both common when talking to Damian and Jason. 

Not for the first time Dick thinks about how Jason definitely could have been a Wayne - the looks, grunts, scowls; it all seemed so genetic. Tim was his own breed, and seemed to absorb their traits through osmosis or something of that nature. Accurate? Maybe not, but it was an explanation nonetheless. 

Dick, despite living at the manor the longest, was the furthest from a Wayne. Maybe it was because of his background, so much brighter and filled with life than his successors' - he was always much more extraverted than anyone else in the family. It could have been that, or it could have been a million other things. Regardless, he was happy where he was. Would be happier if this whole zombie thing hadn't happened in the first place, actually, but beggars can't be choosers and all that.

"I can literally hear you thinking," Jason grumbled, sitting up slightly. "How the hell have you not passed out yet?"

"It probably has something to do with y-"

"I don't think I've processed it yet," Dick said, cutting Damian off. He stared at a spot on the wall, squinting slightly as if it held the answers to his problems.

"A whole lot has happened, and right now nothing seems real. Even this feels like a dream - it's like I'm going to wake up and tell you all about the weirdest dream ever, and how I'm very glad it's not my reality." Dick frowned.

"I know it is, though. And I know other things, like how I probably lost most of my friends. I know that, but I just..." Dick trailed off, knowing he didn't need to finish for the other two to understand. 

"You're in shock," Jason whispered, running a hand through Dick's newly washed hair. "Just close your eyes, okay? Close your eyes, and focus on your breathing." Dick wanted to make a snarky comment about how _he_ should be taking care of _them_ because he was the oldest, and that's what the oldest does. But he didn't, because his eyes were closing and suddenly everything felt so heavy and the only thing he could focus on was the warm hand running through his hair.

And that was how Dick fell asleep, sandwiched between two of his favorite people and torn between accepting his new reality and denying it with everything he had. 

\--------

Jason waited until he was sure Dick was actually asleep before tilting his head to look at Damian. Their eyes met almost immediately, locked in somewhat of a staring contest. It was Jason who broke the silence between them first, wanting to get this part - while very necessary in both their minds - over with as soon as possible. 

"We don't let it happen," he whispered, lazarus green eyes all but glowing with heightened emotions.

"Of course not," Damian scoffed. "But it'll be whoever is closest, I presume?" 

"In most cases," Jason nodded in agreement. 

Out of all the bats, Jason and Damian were the most comfortable with killing. Sure, they had both stopped, but that didn't mean they wouldn't do what needed to be done in the future.

"You're in charge of making sure, you know that, right?"

"Of course I do Todd," Damian's nose wrinkled. "The real question is if you can do what you're in charge of."

A crooked smile found its way to Jason's lips. He and the brat didn't really get along, but they had their own way of communicating - that is, violence and vague sentences that would confuse anyone listening in. Perhaps it was out of habit, perhaps it was to test the other's intelligence. Whatever the case, Jason was glad that someone understood - even if they were a little asshole most of the time.

"Of course I can," Jason replied. 

The two stared for a few seconds more before reaching over Dick and bumping their forearms together. In a way, it was their own version of 'I promise', only much simpler and more serious. 

"The others?" Damian asked after a moment.

"We'll deal with it as we go," Jason replied.

Yes, it was nice to have someone of a similar mindset with him in the apocalypse. 

\--------

The morning, when it came, didn't present anything unusual at first. There was, of course, the obvious, but Dick opted to ignore it for the time being. He would have plenty to worry about in no time, so he planned on just enjoying his cereal as though it was the last meal he'd ever have.

Jason and Damian argued about it with him, as they always did, but they tried significantly less to get him to eat something else instead of his cereal. They had him eat more than just the sugary oats, but Dick was content with letting them push more food on him if it made them feel better. 

The two would never admit it, and they were generally hard to read, but Dick _knew_ them. He knew what the twitch in Damian's left eyebrow meant, and he knew the difference between the normal tension Jason held in his shoulders (always ready to fight, must be ready for anything, can't let his guard down-) and stress tension.

He always found it amusing when the rest of his family worried about him as though he needed their protection. It was appreciated, sure, but next to Bruce and Babs he needed the least amount of worry. He'd been doing the vigilante gig for the majority of his life, and he figured that the care-free attitude he displayed often made people forget that. No matter. 

His family could think what they pleased, but he knew exactly what he needed to do and how to do it. He may be the most emotional (which wasn't saying much, truthfully - the bar was set very low to begin with), but he had seen his fair share of things and had taken on the burden of the cowl many times. It may seem that he always wore his heart of his sleeve, but he could fake it with the best of them. And when necessary, he could turn it all off.

Whether or not that little trick was from Bruce or Slade, he wasn't sure, but he always figured that it was a solid mix of the two. From Bruce, he watched and learned, and from Slade, he was taught. 

Grumpily, Dick thought about how he would be showing some rather not nice sides of himself in the very near future. Bruce had seen most all of them, but he liked to keep his skeletons in his closest thank you very much. In other words, showing Jason, Tim, Damian, and everyone else how truly messed up in the head he could be was not on his to-do list. 

With any luck, they'd just think he was adapting. But they knew him better than that, and it was because of that that Dick hoped they'd know that while yes, he had some very dark parts to himself, he was still the same person. He'd still give Damian (supposedly) unwanted hugs, he'd still drag Tim off to bed and tuck him in when he worked himself too hard, and he could still provide the soft comfort that Jason craved like nothing else on some nights. 

That's still who he was - just, with some added bits and pieces. 

But he imagined that it probably wouldn't come as too big of a surprise. After all, there was no way to do what they did and not be messed up in some way.

Still, he thought. There were still so many changes happening, and he didn't like it. He didn't like that he had no idea where his friends were and if they were okay. He didn't like that his world was suddenly some twisted video game, and he didn't like how his new suit was so much heavier than his old one. 

He could feel both Jason and Damian's eyes on him as he pouted in the corner, poking at all the armor in an old Nightwing suit Bruce had made for him in situations where he'd need more protection than agility. He appreciated it now, but he still didn't like having to wear it. 

"Suck it up buttercup," Jason chirped from by the batcomputer. He had a smug grin in place, making Dick pout harder. How dare he find his pain amusing.

"As much as it pains me to say," Damian said with a sigh. "I agree with Todd. Your normal suit is way to flimsy for this situation."

"Oh," Dick groaned, dramatically placing a hand over his heart. "You both wound me. Have you no sympathy for my suffering?"

"None."

"Nope."

"So mean," Dick huffed, making his way over to the pair. "Y'know, I'm super happy you guys are on good terms right now, but how come it's at my expense?"

"Cause you just make it too easy, Dickiebird," Jason said with a grin. "Now, let's get started."

The three opted to stand around Batman's chair as they waited for Babs to connect their video call to the Watchtower. Damian was in front of the chair with his arms crossed in a bulked up version of the Robin costume. Jason had his hands on his hips, all decked out in his normal Red Hood gear. The only difference now was that his forearms were covered and his gloves seemed more heavy duty than before. Dick himself still had the black and blue themed suit, only this time it was all armor. Still flexible to some degree, but no teeth were going to be getting through it any time soon. 

Just as Dick was debating whether or not he should get Damian and himself some helmets, the call connected, showing them the League.

"Babs!" Dick grinned, leaning forward and placing his hands on the desk. "Lookin' beautiful as always," he said, earning a scoff in return. 

"Yeah yeah," she said, rolling her eyes in what Dick knew was her own way of saying she was happy to see him. He's gotten very good at reading emotionally constipated people over the years, you see. Not that Babs was herself, but if he could read Bruce, then he could read Babs. Hell, if he could read Bruce, he could read just about anyone.

Anyway, this little meeting was, Dick presumed, to discuss the decisions the group in the Watchtower had come to regarding his plan. But before they even got to that, Dick wanted to say something first.

"So," he started. "I know that yesterday I said I would go out as soon as I could to find everyone else, but I think that some other things need to be done first."

He paused before standing up straight and crossing his arms, sighing slightly as he closed his eyes and tilted his head to the side.

"As much as I'd love to run out right now, it's not realistic. I have no idea where they were last seen, who is confirmed dead," Dick wasn't sure if he was proud or not that he didn't stutter in the word 'dead', "or how long we'd even be out there. So before we leave the manner, we need to get that down pat first. I will say, though, that I'd still like to get as many civilians out as we can." 

Dick put his hands on his hips, staring at the people in front of him. "The rural areas, as I stated before, are most likely currently unaffected if the big cities are the hotspots. But with us having no idea just how much of the population we've lost, they could be overrun in a few days, or a few weeks. I don't know, but I think that at the moment, they should be our top priority.

"Adding on to that, they don't have the training that we do. Each and every one of us had plans on what to do should we need to disappear, and we should assume that those who were able to execute those plans have. The ones who couldn't but are still kicking are probably hiding out somewhere waiting for extraction. 

"My current suggestion is to get the civilians out and bring them to either the Fortress of Solitude or the Watchtower. In regards to who we bring where, I think that bringing the scientists and engineers and their families to the Watchtower would be the best bet. They'll be much more helpful there than the Fortress. 

"I still think that the teams I proposed should remain the same, but I also think that there is something else Superman could do." Dick turned his head to look at Clark.

"I know that there are some heartbeats that you have memorized. I'm not sure how many there are, and I'm not sure if you'd even be able to find any of them in this mess. But if you're able to pick them up, then I think that you should check it out. Don't engage, but see if you can get eyes on them. If you see them and can get to them without putting yourself in danger, and so long as they're still themselves, then get them out. If you don't think you can get to them without risking too much, we'll send Hal and he can use his constructions to get them out."

Clark nodded, but there was a slight furrow in his brow.

"I mean," he said, "I definitely agree with you, and I can certainly do that. But human teeth don't have much of a chance of-"

"We're not all humans," Bruce interrupted. "And while we're unsure if metas and aliens still have their powers after being infected, they are still stronger than normal humans." He turned to face Clark, stony expression still hidden behind his cowl. It seems Dick wasn't the only one who felt the comfort the masks provided.

"If you were to find Shayera, J'onn, or Starfire and couldn't immediately get away from them, the chances of you getting infected are much higher." 

Dick felt a sharp pang in his chest, and sucked in a sharp breath. That got the other's attention, but Dick couldn't be bothered. Kori was _gone_ \- as in, he'd never see her again. He'd never see her flaming hair, never see those green eyes, never have her toss him up in the air so that he could pretend he could fly...

Yes, Dick was in love with Jason - head over heels, really. But there are some people who always stay close to your heart, and she was one of them. 

With burning eyes that he was glad were hidden behind his mask, he turned to look at Jason. Because Kori was one of Jason's best friends, and if Kori was gone and Roy wasn't with Jason-

He couldn't. Dick couldn't think about Roy being gone too, not right now. The three of them - Roy, Kori, and himself - had recently come back together as friends. Not as close as they had been, but it had been _something_. He could only imagine what Jason was feeling. But, as Jason said before, suck it up, buttercup. 

With a shaky breath Dick cooled his features. Looks like he'd be showing the not-so-great parts of himself sooner than he thought. But it was unavoidable, so Dick took all his feelings and grief and locked it in a small box in his mind, one that he would open when he was alone and could cry and mourn and feel himself die a little on the inside in private. For now, though, he needed to be Nightwing. And Nightwing had a mission.

"Then we stick by what I said," Dick said, not allowing himself to react to the surprised looks on the others' faces at how steady his voice was. "If Hal is okay with it as well, then I think that should be our new plan. Same groups and same missions, only Clark and Hal have another addition. But don't let that distract you from what you're doing at the moment - you'll also be providing support to Batman," he couldn't think of him at Bruce at the moment or he might crack, because if _Kori_ could get taken down by these things- "and Flash. Jason, Damian and I will do a bit of scouting today, see if we can figure out just how bad Gotham was hit and report back tonight. We won't do anything else today - everyone needs to rest up, make sure they have something to carry first aid kits and food in, and we'll start this tomorrow."

He could see a range of emotions on everyone's faces, going from understanding (Bruce - of course it was Bruce, Bruce could almost always tell what he was thinking), slight confusion and surprise (Barry and Hal), determination (Diana), pain (Oliver, who had probably lost his son and dear god what if he lost _Damian_ -), and more but he couldn't process it; not right now.

Batman gave his agreement before disconnecting them, sending Jason, Damian and himself into a crushing silence. He felt two sets of eyes boring into him, but Dick couldn't bring himself to look. If he did he might lose it, because for all his training it still _hurt_ , those were his _friends_ -

He didn't have time to break down, so he wouldn't. Not now, anyways. 

"We'll leave in ten," he said before walking over to the med bay where he had packed enough first aid kits for all of them and then some. "We'll have to walk because while the bikes go fast, there'll probably be-"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" 

Dick paused at Jason's harsh tone. He knew what was coming, and was silently begging Jason to stop. He knows what it looked like, he _knows_ , but he can't confront that just yet-

"You hear that we lost Kori, and you keep going like that's _nothing_?!" 

Dick peeled off his mask and placed it on the bench in front of him, bringing one hand up to rub at the area between his eyes.

"Jason," he started.

"No! No, you can't just- just, act like losing her, and, and Roy and all the others was just-"

Jason cut himself off, having stalked over to Dick and roughly turning him around to face him. Jason stopped, because he could see the pain and unshed tears in his partner's eyes, something that shouldn't have been so unexpected but for some reason shocked him down to his core-

"I can't," Dick started, pausing to try and regain some semblance of control. "I can't process this at the moment. I need to see what's out there, get back, and then."

The part that came after "then" was unspoken. They all knew Dick would break down when he got back, but Jason got it now - Dick could see that in the way his eyes softened, and how the hand on his shoulder became more comforting than aggressive. 

"Then," Jason agreed.

Dick nodded stiffly before turning back to the first aid kits, taking one for himself, passing one to Jason and tossing Damian a third. 

"Gear up," he said, voice cracking only a little. "We've got work to do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think Jason and Damian are chatting about :0
> 
> Also, sorry about the long wait ajakajsks
> 
> And also also, next chapter shouldn't be as serious as this one was lmao


End file.
